


Chilling Conclusion

by Nicxan



Category: Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (2019)
Genre: Child Death Offscreen, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-25 03:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21349564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicxan/pseuds/Nicxan
Summary: Most children treated Sarah like a sideshow attraction. She had long given up hope for any kind of friendship -- until Helen came along.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	Chilling Conclusion

“Sarah Bellows, tell me a story!”  
  
It was a demand she heard often. Most of the time, a stifled giggle followed it. Sarah grit her teeth, digging what little remained of her nails into her book. Was she really so funny, just by existing? Was she truly _ that _ strange? Her family had told her that enough; she had expected it from them. But to be treated as some circus attraction even by people who couldn’t see her? It made her blood boil.  
  
But she was so bored. So lonely. This was the only social interaction she got, most days, being mocked by these children. So, despite her bitterness, she told them a story, as they requested. She always made her tales something to remember - something the children would never forget. A part of her hoped they would return to hear more, just so she could be distracted from her misery.  
  
They never did.  
  
While she had given up hope for this long ago, it still cut her to her core. Sarah couldn’t even say why. Once they had gotten their fill of ‘Strange Sarah’, they didn’t even bother to even come close. She never even got a ‘thank you’ for entertaining them. It was just another joke to them - something to brag about to their friends. Even as she felt her bitterness grow, she continued to tell them her stories.  
  
If they’d never return, why not give them what they wanted? Why not tell them awful stories, ones without a happy ending, ones with terror so great that they cut fear into the hearts of men? If there was a kid that was sobbing at the end of it, she didn’t care. They asked for this, after all. They had no one to blame but themselves.  
  
It went on like this for weeks. Random kids would run off sobbing, some would be laughing (those shocked her), and some ... some just didn’t react at all. They were never the same. Every voice was different.  
  
Then, there was one day when she actually recognized the voice that came through the crack in the wall. It was soft, nervous - like hers, when she even bothered talking normally. She sounded much closer than the other children usually did, too.  
  
“Sarah?” came the voice. “My name is Helen. Can you tell me a story, please?”  
  
Sarah was too taken aback to respond for a moment. She blinked, dumbfounded. Who ever asked, not demanded, things of Strange Sarah? Who ever requested a story with a soft please? This girl, apparently.  
  
“Of course,” Sarah whispered, starling even herself. “What would you like?”  
  
“Charles said you had a really scary story about bloody fingers. I want to hear that one, please! He ran away so fast he couldn’t even tell me the ending ...”  
  
Sarah felt tears of joy running down her face; she hadn’t known how long they flowed, nor why. She wiped her face off with her sleeve, then settled into her seat. If this girl wanted truly scary, she would get truly scary.  
  
“Well, then. You will hear it instead. Are you ready?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
Sarah took a deep breath and began her tale: “A businessman arrived at a hotel late one night and asked for a room. The room clerk told him they were completely full, except for one room ...”  
  
Helen never interrupted. She never stifled a disrespectful giggle, nor did she chat to anyone else while Sarah spoke. Sarah couldn’t remember the last time this had happened. It only fueled her; she continued with fervor, with enthusiasm she thought she lost a long time ago. ‘_How long has it been ...?_’  
  
“... the man paid no attention to the spirit. He simply kept strumming his guitar. But the ghost kept moaning, and its fingers kept bleeding. Finally, the guitar player looked up.” Sarah paused, letting tension hang in the air. She grinned. “‘_Relax,_’ he said. ‘_Just get a bandage _ .’”  
  
Helen burst out into a fit of giggles. Sarah found it impossible to not laugh along with her.  
  
“That’s what Charles was so afraid of? That’s funny!”  
  
“He was like the first two guests in the room, wasn’t he?”  
  
“Yes!” Eventually, her giggling subsided. Sarah heard her stand up on the grass, and some of the wind was suddenly blocked off. Did she have a hand up against the wall? “Thank you, Sarah. You’re really not as bad as people say you are. Can I come back for another story?”  
  
“Tomorrow, yes. You need to get home. Your parents will be worried.”  
  
“I’ll be here tomorrow! Bye, Sarah!” Before Sarah could say anything else, she was off. Sarah leaned back in her seat. Had that really just happened? Was she actually able to talk to someone who treated her as a person? She couldn’t believe it. There was no possible way Helen would return.  
  
Except she did the very next day - like she had promised.  
  
“Sarah! I’m back!”  
  
“Helen!” Sarah rushed over to her chair by the wall. “It’s rather early, isn’t it?”  
  
“Well, yes, but -- I found time.” Sarah heard Helen shift around and sit down. She had to have - Sarah heard her voice coming through the lower portion of the crack. “Can I hear another story, please?”  
  
“Of course you can. Do you want a long one or a short one?”  
  
“Maybe a short one today. I have things I need to do. But I really wanted to hear you!”  
  
Helen continued this day after day, like clockwork. Sarah hadn’t ever had to come up with so many new stories so quickly before, but she couldn’t be happier for it. The child enjoyed every single one. It was more than worth it.  
  
Sarah started planning stories ahead. Her mother sneered at Sarah when she smiled, but for once, it didn’t affect her. Even if they had never seen each other, she finally had a friend. That was something that couldn’t be taken away from her.  
  
Then, one day, after months had passed, Sarah didn’t hear Helen’s voice. Sarah’s heart felt heavy, but she brushed it off. Maybe she was too busy to drop by. Maybe her parents told her to stop coming around as often. Maybe, maybe, maybe ...  
  
When weeks passed with no sign of her, Sarah began to get worried. This was so unlike her. Had she been caught? Had something happened? She very well couldn’t ask her family - they’d chastise her for her stories, and she didn’t want the crack in the wall fixed.  
  
So, she took the opportunity to ask one of the children.  
  
“Excuse me, Charles,” Sarah whispered. Her voice trembled. “Where is Helen? I haven’t heard from her in a while.”  
  
“Oh ... oh, uh ...” He fumbled over his words. “She ... she died three weeks ago. Mama found her dead near the mill.”  
  
Sarah’s blood ran cold. “The mill?”  
  
“We don’t know what happened to her.” Charles almost sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “She wasn’t murdered, but she wasn’t moving ...”  
  
Sarah bit her lip to try and stop herself from sobbing. Her lip bled, and her shoulders shook from the restraint. But at least Charles couldn't hear her. That was what was important right now.  
  
“Thank you.” She took a breath, hating the quiet whimper that she couldn’t hold back. “I’m sorry, Charles. I can’t tell a story today.”  
  
“I understand,” Charles said sadly. “I miss her too.”  
  
She didn’t hear him leave. All Sarah could hear was the sound of her own wracking sobs.  
  
She was alone again.  
  
_ ‘I always will be.’ _


End file.
